


make acquaintance with this morning

by heartseekers



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, House Party, sort of; more like cleaning up after a house party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-11 17:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20550152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartseekers/pseuds/heartseekers
Summary: Just Jackson and his house, the morning after.





	make acquaintance with this morning

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!

Bright light hits the crumpled duvet in thin stripes that match the gaps in Jackson’s blinds. It takes a while for him to open his eyes, the same way it always does after a night of partying, and he groans and turns away from the sun at first. Always trying to delay the inevitable, even though he knows that he’ll get up sooner or later. It’s still early in the morning, the sky carrying sunrise smudges tinged pink and orange that haven’t shifted into blue yet.

Sitting up is easier than it should be; most of his clothes are still on as well, except he’s exchanged his jeans for a pair of shorts sometime before falling asleep. He’s alone in his bedroom but there are signs people have been inside—a couple of glasses litter his nightstand, pink and blue concoctions still pooling inside, and he almost steps on a crushed beer can after he stumbles out of bed. Jackson scratches his head when he notices that a jacket that’s too big and neon to be his is draped over the back of his desk chair.

He has to tug the shower curtain over the arm hanging out of his bathtub when he gets inside the bathroom, feeling slightly more humane once he’s done brushing his teeth. Chancing a look in the mirror he’s greeted with the sight of pillow creases on his face and bloodshot eyes staring back at him, and Jackson runs a hand through his hair in defeat.

The living room has bodies strewn around the floor and cuddled up on the couch and armchairs, limbs askew. Jackson’s almost tripped over them three times now, the smell of stale alcohol not helping his dizziness in the least. Despite it all, it’s almost a peaceful picture; soft sounds drift through the otherwise still air and the sun creeping higher in the sky bathes the room in a warm glow. It’s almost enough to send Jackson back to his own bed, cleanup be damned.

It’s never really easy, picking things up and throwing them away, figuring out what left weird stains on the floor. He turns to look at his friends, snoring gently and unbothered around him, oblivious to Jackson cleaning up after them. Soon, he’ll have to shake them awake and send them off, gentle hands meeting reluctant bodies that still cling to the sweet promise of sleep. 

As if somebody up above was privy to his struggles, Jackson hears a groan surface from the other side of the room. He sits up straight just in time to watch Jooheon fall to the floor with a very muted sound, red hair sticking up on one side and eyes wide open and alarmed. It almost makes Jackson laugh, the weird expression on his face, before he goes to help him up and also stack the pile of empty pizza boxes in his arms. “You know where to take these, right?” he says with a smile, enjoying the pout forming on Jooheon’s lips. 

Next he opens up a window, pulling the curtains to keep the worst of the sun out, still feeling a bit merciful. Jackson makes quick work of a few beer bottles laying around, struggling to grip eight of them all at once before heading towards the kitchen. Inside, Jooheon’s helping himself to some toast, the scent of warm bread floating around and he’s this close to nagging him for slacking off when the other male offers him a piece. Sticks it right between Jackson’s lips and then grins at him as if he were proud of what he’s done.

Jackson munches on the toast while looking for a box he keeps around for recycling purposes, arranging the bottles neatly inside and making room for more. He motions for Jooheon to follow him back into the living room, both of them carrying empty bottles until there aren’t any left. They decide to take another break, pulling a carton of apple juice out of the fridge and sharing it between them. Surveying the room through the open door, Jackson’s relieved to see there isn’t much left to do—some stray cans and plastic cups to pick up, righting the table where people must’ve bumped into it, and the most daunting task of all… Vacuuming; which is guaranteed to wake everybody up.

He’s in the middle of a sort of heated debate about who should get the last of the juice when Namjoon walks into the kitchen, completely barefoot and with his tank top hanging off of one shoulder. He was wearing a shirt over it last night and when they both raise their eyebrows at him, Namjoon smiles sheepishly and mumbles something about Jungkook being cold. 

“You could’ve asked me for a blanket, y’know?”

They poke fun at Namjoon for a bit before telling him to sit down, pointing at the single piece of toast that’s survived both Jackson and Jooheon. Namjoon shrugs before taking it, biting into the crust and taking the carton of juice from right under their noses as well. Nobody wins that round. 

All three of them resume cleaning, Namjoon shaking up a few people in between strategically placing plastic cups inside other plastic cups for easier transportation. Surprisingly, the peaceful atmosphere persists despite more and more people becoming awake, confusion written on some of their faces when they find themselves in various places or positions. Jackson remembers to send a quick prayer to the poor soul that ended up in his bathtub. 

Some of his guests make a hasty retreat, choosing not to linger and instead bracing themselves for a walk of booze-induced shame through the chilly morning. It helps when they leave the door open, curtains ruffling in the breeze and fresh air rushing in. Jackson shivers where he’s standing in his patterned shorts and thin shirt but he clenches his teeth and bears it if it means getting rid of the post-party smell faster. Though he has a sneaking suspicion that won’t entirely go away until they clean the rug properly. 

Somebody creeps up behind him all sneakily, throwing themselves on Jackson’s back and making him drop the bag he’s holding, letting out a shrill scream in the process. There’s laughter in his ear, bright and loud, and he recognizes Amber immediately, calming down slightly. He must’ve woken the rest of the house up—and surely enough, a few moments later there’s people peeking back into the living room curiously.

Amber just slaps his back and leaves her hand there, looking down at the mess Jackson made when he got scared. Behind her, the friend she was with covers her mouth while laughing, stepping forward to help Jackson pick up the trash. 

“Need a hand, bro?” she says with a tilt of her chin and Jackson wants to die, kind of. 

“Nope, I’m good, thanks! Your friend here is more helpful,” he retorts, lips stretched thin over an awkward grimace.

“I’m Luna.” She stretches her hand out and smiles sunnily. Jackson fumbles for a moment before clasping it and barking out a ‘_nice to meet you_’, watching Amber out of the corner of his eye. She looks a bit fond all of a sudden, staring at Luna as they make small talk.

“Thank you for inviting me!” (Jackson does not remember talking to her before this day.) “We had fun! I hope your rug’s not ruined from the beer pong we played last night. Somebody knocked over the cups—” and she glances at Amber ”—but I don’t think there’s a stain, really?”

Jackson feels his soul leaving his body. 

He walks them to the door, dreading to turn back and check again, promising Amber to text her if there’ll be another party next weekend. ‘_Not a chance, dude_,’ he thinks to himself, feeling like he’ll need a long time to recover from this one. His parents don’t really check in on him but Jackson also doesn’t want to set the house on fire. Or leave it looking like a dump.

Back in the living room Jackson pulls Jooheon aside and gets his help in shifting the table to the side, wincing when he steps into a puddle of something. That would be the spilled beer, he thinks bitterly, letting his head thunk against the glass surface and wishing it were the heavy marble slab under it instead. Thankfully, the rest of the room seems to be relatively clean and he sends a quick mental thank you to Namjoon and Jooheon. He’s going to take care of his room himself, but it’s just the glasses and the suspicious looking jacket in there, so not much to do. 

Namjoon steps out of the kitchen then, with his shoes on and his shirt still wrapped around Jungkook’s shoulders. They both wave at Jackson as they pass by him, hurrying along as if they have a train to catch (and maybe they do; Namjoon doesn’t live far from Jackson’s house but Jungkook does, and knowing Namjoon he would walk the boy to the train station at the very least). Jackson doesn’t see the way they link their hands on the way out but he will grill Namjoon for answers later, maybe when it’s just the two of them—preferably, face to face.

He sighs as he sits down on the couch, eyes trained on the pale yellow stain staring him down. It wouldn’t take much to scrub it out himself and Jackson’s pretty sure that’s what’s going to happen in the end, but he doesn’t look forward to spending an hour or so to fix it. And then waiting for it to dry. He waves his hand at Jooheon, who’s biting his lip while also peering down at the rug. Jackson briefly entertains the thought that Jooheon might’ve been involved in the accident (and therefore he has to help him get it out), if not for the fact that his friend had been busy the entire night, charming the rigidness out of a certain Taeyong. It took at least two hours until he’d given in and let Jooheon bring him his own drink that wasn’t just water or cherry coke, but Jackson was impressed nonetheless. 

“It’s good, I can take over from here. Thanks, dude,” he says tiredly, hoping Jooheon won’t try to insist that he has to stay and help. He seems eager to leave as well, slipping his leather jacket on before bending down to grab a garbage bag that he brought out of the kitchen without Jackson noticing. They shake hands and Jackson listens to the rustle of the plastic as Jooheon heads out, shutting the door behind him and letting silence settle over the living room like a thick blanket. 

In the end, it’s just Jackson and his house, glowing streaks of morning light creeping steadily over the floor to tickle his toes. He sighs and it’s like the walls sigh with him, letting out the tension stored in the concrete and white paint, curtain billowing out like a wave in front of him. He tips his head back and sinks into the couch, gripping the cushions under his palms and closing his eyes briefly; a moment of respite before he has to get up again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> my first fest fic! thank you so much for getting to the end; i originally intended for this to be a drabble but here we are, at almost 2k words in the end. jackson works in mysterious ways indeed
> 
> my commissions are open! as always, you can find me on 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/deaconkink)   
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